her heart swell. Maybe it was selfish, but she wanted a part of him that Bonnie hadn't seen and hurt. She didn't know the details of what they'd done to each other, but she knew that the results had devastated the man holding her so very carefully. The feel of his hard body made her want to luxuriate in him, but the slight tension in his muscles reminded her that this wasn't fair.
She moved off his lap. "I'll meet you downstairs for breakfast - I'll cook."
"I'll look forward to it." He rose at once, and with a pang in her heart, she knew that he'd been waiting for the moment when she'd set him free.
Twenty minutes later, she watchedJacksonpick up a fork and use the edge to cut the corner off a pancake. She watched his lips as he forked in the bite, and somewhere along the way her desire to know if he enjoyed her cooking was overcome by the urge to taste his lips. To try and see if she could come out of sexual deep freeze.
"Good."
The short accolade snapped her out of her sudden, sensual need to explore the man she was going to marry. Quickly, she choked down some of her own breakfast.
"We'll marry within the week,"Jacksonsaid after she'd taken a few bites, his tone matter-of-fact.
Her mouth felt fuzzy with nervous tension, but she managed to ask, "Won't a sudden marriage look odd?"
He raised a brow. "We've been secretly seeing each other for months, not wishing to be dogged by paparazzi."
"Clever."
He acknowledged the compliment with a wry smile. "Valetta did something like that when she decided she was ready for marriage. That lasted about six months - a record even in my family."
"How is your sister anyway?"
"I don't know. Haven't seen her for months."
"Don't you care?" She couldn't hide her disapproval.
"My family is not close like you and Nick." His clipped response didn't encourage further conversation on that topic. Strung taut as she was, she didn't have the inclination to pursue it today. "I believe we can be married by Tuesday."
"Tuesday." She put down her fork. "Registry?" A twinge of pain arrowed through her heart. Despite the nature of their bargain, she didn't want this marriage to start out so very practically, devoid of any hint of hope.
"Only if that is what you wish."
"What do you mean?" She looked up, wondering at the change inJackson's speech rhythms. As usual, it had happened without warning. At first, she'd thought it was caused by strong emotion, but that couldn't be true, because he was very calm. Whatever it was, the more Italian he sounded, the worse her self-control became.
"There is an isolated farmstead about an hour out by helicopter. It is often used as a wedding venue. I've checked and we can have it for Tuesday if we want."
"But it's Sunday today! We couldn't organize everything by then ... could we?" Hope blossomed.
His beautifully shaped lips gentled into a smile. "If we could, do you want the farmhouse?"
"Of course. I'd like to invite some friends."
In the next few hours,Taylorlearned about the power of money and charisma. Shops opened just for them, caterers called in relief staff, florists ordered shipments of flowers in special air packages and a couturier flew in from a weekend retreat to show her his wedding collection.
"Come in, come in."The little artiste waved them through to his upstairs showroom.
Flustered, she looked up at the darkly beautiful man who was her companion. "Jackson?"
"Hmm." He bent his head a little, hand on her lower back. She'd always guessed that he was a possessive man and he'd let her see that side of him today. No one who met her was in any doubt that she was nowSantorini's woman.
Taylorfelt ambivalent about the claiming. Part of her was delighted. But, another part of her, the lost, lonely, abandoned girl, was terrified. Yes, he was claiming her now but there was a time limit on their relationship. If she didn't give him what he wanted, he'd abandon her, just like everyone else. The brutal truth was that this was nothing more than a business deal.
Faced with the couturier, she was lost. "What am I supposed to do?" she askedJackson, her voice a whisper. She had never been a rich girl, in spite of Lance's wealth. He'd never treated them to any luxury, and had begrudged them every penny he did spare.
Jackson's hand curved over her hip, blatantly proprietary. "You're a very valued customer. Take only what